


Water & Oil

by indievous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Stony - Freeform, but i wrote this a while ago, its cute i promise, my tony is on point, stucky is better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8884453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indievous/pseuds/indievous
Summary: America's brave soldier and star spangled hero - everyone knows the story of Steve Rogers, better known to most as Captain America. A serum developed by Dr. Abraham Erskine shaped him into a super-soldier, giving him extraordinary strength and the power he needed to beat Hydra and the Nazis during World War 2. And it was all thanks to the doctor and Howard Stark. Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. Son of the man partially responsible for Captain America and all his greatness. But this is Tony's spotlight. An arrogant, greedy man, he is famous for his attitude, money, and of course, being the human inside the Iron Man suit. He would have never made it out of the Empty Quarter without it, never would have escaped the terrorist group that sought for his weapons. The two are brought together when a certain demigod attacks New York, and they detest each other significantly. But when all of that is over, what remains?Both are left with feelings they can't identify. Will they figure them out? How will they cope with all the bumps in the road that life throws at them?This is their story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this a while ago when I was in my Stony phase. Don't get me wrong, I do ship them and everything, but nothing is better than Stucky. I'm not sure how I feel about this, because there isn't /really/ a plot, but it's the first full-length fan fiction I've ever written and finished writing (I cried when I wrote the last chapter). So in a way, I'm proud of this. Hope you like it :)

In the beginning, it was indifference.

Steve was completely unlike what his father so passionately described to Tony as being, and the latter was so much like Howard Stark that it aggravated Steve to no end. It was a reminder of both their pasts that each man longed to forget, pasts that still burnt them like a hot iron.

It was indifference that led the heroes to detest each other, to find the needle in the haystack and attack with it. To find the smallest fault in each other's actions and start a fight because they were angry, so angry, and didn't know how to let previous matters go. 

They didn't want to let previous matters go. 

Their patience with each other was tested highly during the battle of New York, but they managed to pull through it. After that, and after Tony nearly died, Steve's attitude toward the man calmed down substantially. He didn't get as irritated with the hero as he once did. Tony, on the other hand, acted as though nothing had changed. He was the same Tony Stark that he was before - arrogant and argumentative.

But nightmares plagued the both of them. This was nothing new for Tony, who'd been getting them since he had been kidnapped and nearly killed by the Ten Rings - the terrorist group that wanted his weaponry. But Steve? This was something uncharted for him. His nightmares weren't even about himself - they were about Tony.

Countless times he watched helplessly, body paralyzed, as the Iron Man plummeted through the air. Down, down, down he went, until he smashed into the pavement and his entire body was broken. Each time the arc reactor, having been ejected from Tony's chest on impact, would roll towards Steve's stagnant feet, blinking almost teasingly until the light faded entirely.

Each time, the Captain woke up screaming.

There wasn't much he could do but sit there in the darkness, drenched in a cold sweat, and try to convince himself that it wasn't true, it didn't really happen, that it was only a dream and Tony Stark was just several floors below him, probably working on his suits or drinking himself into amnesia.

What he wanted to do when this happened was go down to the garage and see the male, make sure that he was okay. Steve was protective of his teammates like that, but it was different with Tony. He couldn't even describe these bizarre feelings for the iron hero, and it was just another thing that frustrated him.

But Steve was foreign to this new, ever-changing world of technology and new customs and a society that was not as conservative as it once was.

Would he ever completely understand anything?


	2. Chapter 2

On a particularly dreary Wednesday morning, Steve found himself at the gym. This was not uncommon, as the blond man came here often to blow off steam. Nor was it uncommon that there were six punching bags lying defeated in the corner, their contents spilled over the polished wood floor.

What was uncommon, however, was that Steve had neglected to cover his knuckles with tape. Raw, angry and bleeding flesh was the result of this decision, but the hero barely noticed a thing. The pain encouraged him. It made the nightmare a little easier to forget.

It started off as usual - the battle of New York was coming to its end, and the Chitauri were dropping dead at the Avengers' feet. Tony had just realized that S.H.I.E.L.D's missile was heading straight for the city and he was en route to deter its path. He would send it flying into space, where it would explode but no civilians would be harmed.

Steve heard himself speak, but he hadn't made it happen. He was a prisoner in this memory, in this dream.

"Stark, you know that's a one way trip."

Tony responded with a joke, but the Captain could hear the unease in his voice. The Iron Man seemed to believe, too, that he would not be coming back.

Steve's heart was pumping in his chest as he watched Tony disappear through the atmosphere, heard the crackling in his earpiece as the billionaire's disconnected from the set. Panic set into both of them.

Just like he had done that fateful day, Steve closed his eyes and began to pray to the God he believed in.

Please make it. We need you, Tony. You're an arrogant bastard but you're smart as a whip and we couldn't have won this thing without you. Please come back.

Low and behold, Tony did come back. Natasha's cry of surprise made Steve's eyes shoot open again, and it wasn't long before they were focused on the Iron Man's descending body. He was getting closer now, but something seemed to be wrong. 

"He's not slowing down." Thor said at the same time that the Captain thought it. He watched helplessly, his body refusing to move from his spot. It seemed that the others were in the same position.

Suddenly, he saw the Hulk out of the corner of his eye. This was different, as in his other nightmares Banner was always startlingly absent. But here he was, running forward to catch Tony, and Steve was beginning to think the beast might actually reach him in time.

But God, he was just a fraction of a second too late. The moment Tony hit the ground, the other Avengers disappeared. The hero's metal body shattered beautifully, sending bits and pieces of aluminum everywhere like a rainstorm. Steve felt something sticky on his face, and didn't have to reach up to know it was blood. His stomach gave a nauseous leap.

Suddenly he could move again. Captain America ran forward and collapsed to his knees next to Tony, who was a mess of blood and metal and even bones. The arc reactor was gone; blood was pouring out of the open hole in his chest.

Miraculously, Tony was speaking. Red liquid oozed from his mouth with every strained syllable.

"Steve, I love you," He was saying, brown eyes glassy with tears. "I'm sorry for everything. P-Please forgive me...for not telling you sooner..."

The Captain opened his mouth to reply, but he didn't get a chance to. Tony's mouth opened all the way, splitting the sides of it, and he screamed a sound so piercing that it had somehow woken Steve up.

He remembered this last detail of the nightmare now as he sent the seventh punching bag soaring across the room, sand erupting from it as it smashed against the wall.

"That's gonna be a bitch to clean up."

Steve started at the sound of the voice and spun around, ready to fight. He was met with the sight of none other than Tony Stark, hands raised in surrender.

"Whoa, there," The brunet said in defense, though not moving from his spot. "Just me, Capsicle."

There was that damn racing of his heart again, although this time Steve chalked it down to the scare he'd just been given. The adrenaline, too.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, panting as he wiped sweat from his brow.

"Fury needs us." Tony said, as though it were obvious. He crossed the room over to the pile of destroyed punching bags, surveying them with a frown on his face. "Remind me not to piss you off, okay?"

The soldier exhaled, a sort of dry laugh escaping his throat. "Sorry. I'll clean this up."

Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, Jarvis'll do it. Won't you, big man?"

The AI's voice sounded above them in agreement, and foolishly Steve looked up. As if he'd see anything.

"See?" Tony said with a cheeky grin, and then motioned for the door. "Let's go. I'm stopping at Burger King on the way. You hungry?"

"Not really." Steve answered, and then winced as he felt a pain in his knuckles. He looked down only to be greeted with the raw flesh. "Shit."

"You okay?" The other hero asked, brow furrowing in what Steve thought to resemble concern. "You don't seem like you're on your A-game."

"Fine." He breathed, stretching out his fingers and then rolling them back into fists. Anything but, actually, Steve thought to himself.

Tony didn't look convinced, but he knew better than anyone else (with the exception of Bruce, of course) to not press someone. It only escalated things, only made them worse.

"If you say so," He shrugged, pressing the button to call the elevator. "Anyway..."

Tony began to fill him in on the mission, but Steve for once wasn't listening. Instead, he was staring at Tony's chest, at the spot where he used to be able to see the faint, blue glow of the arc reactor through his light t-shirt, pulsing strong and steady. Only recently had Tony gotten it removed, along with the shrapnel that circled his heart for the longest time.

That fact along should have made the nightmares easier to deal with, but it didn't.

He followed the man along quietly, wounded hands still shaking.

This has to stop, now.


	3. Chapter 3

The mission turned out to be a rather simple one, far easier than any of their recent ones. They'd been called to detain a Czechoslovakian mafia leader, who'd stolen several missiles from the FBI and were planning an attack on a large metropolitan area that resided in the country. Natasha was excellent in translating for them. It was easy to get him to stand down. Almost too easy.

Tony made a sarcastic comment about how "Fury would be calling them in to rescue cats out of trees" by the looks of how mediocre things had been with the mission. 

Steve managed to somewhat clear his head long enough to be able to focus on the task at hand, but as soon as it was completed he was back to fretting over the memories of the nightmare. His knuckles were bandaged up now, but they still stung faintly. That wasn't the worst part by a long shot.

Everyone seemed to notice he wasn't his usual self. Natasha had asked him what was wrong, but he brushed it off. Clint and Bruce were shooting him concerned glances the entire flight to and from Czechoslovakia.

It was driving him mad, slowly but surely.

Only Tony had bothered to act like everything was normal, which came as a surprise to Steve. He'd obviously suspected something was up with the man back at the gym, but inclined to keep his mouth shut up about it. Steve didn't know what to make of it.

Once they'd landed safely back at Tony's tower in New York, most of them scattered. Thor returned to New Mexico for Jane, Bruce retreated back to his lab, and the assassins made for the garage to pick out a car (with Tony's blessing, of course); it was date night for them, apparently.

The only two that remained were Steve and Tony, who didn't seem in all that much of a hurry to exit the helicarrier. In fact, Steve was still sitting in his seat, picking at the gauze on his hands and staring at the ground.

"Okay, you're wigging me out here," Tony said, breaking the awkward silence that was filling the air. He stepped closer to the blond, who looked up at him. "Something's up, Spangly. Something you don't want any of us to know. Thought we were a team."

Blue eyes narrowed as Steve met Tony's gaze, and he opened his mouth to tell him to shut up when he decided it wasn't a good idea, and closed it again.

Tony's expression softened so slightly that the Captain wouldn't have noticed it if he wasn't watching Steve's face so closely. "Steve... You can come to us, you know? We are a team. It's what we're here for."

Scoffing, Steve got to his feet. His bandaged hands were clenched into tight fists - he didn't need help. "I'm not a child, Stark. I can handle myself."

And with that, Steve left the helicarrier, feeling angry but also guilty for snapping at Tony like that.

After all, it seemed like the man really was trying to help him.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve left the helicarrier and went straight for the gym, where he found it spotless. One could never tell that he'd smashed seven punching bags in there.

But as he moved to set up another one, he found himself stopping in his tracks and staring down at his injured hands.

He was losing control. He wasn't spiraling out of control yet, no, but Steve Rogers was slowly going insane under the weight of all the tragedy and stress in his life.

He was terrified, to say the least.

Sinking down on a bench against the wall, he tried to figure out what to do. Asking for help wasn't an option - it was practically instilled in his being. Hell, even back in the old days before everything happened he never liked to ask for help. Not from anyone, not even his best friend Bucky. It was simple: Captain America was never supposed to need help. He could handle everything on his own.

That was what the serum was designed to do, right? Make him invincible?

But Steve Rogers, the scrawny guy from Brooklyn, wasn't invincible. He'd been knocked down too many times to count, but he always got back up again. Wasn't that what appealed to Dr. Erskine so much?

Sighing, the blond man dropped his head into his hands. He was at war with himself. He didn't even know if this was one that he could come out on top of, but he wouldn't go down without a fight.

As this thought crossed his mind, he wasn't sure if it came from Scrawny Steve or Captain America.

Maybe a little bit of both.

-x-

It was well after two in the morning when Steve finally dragged himself from the gym. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and the thin scabs on his knuckles had split during his destruction of three more punching bags. Blood was was seeping through the bandages. He made a mental note to change them once he'd gotten back to his room.

He was halfway down the hall to the elevator when he heard it. At first, he wasn't so sure it had been a real noise because he was tired and his brain was tired. But the sound grew louder and more desperate.

More alert now, Steve inched his way down the hall until he was standing face to face with the door to Tony's garage. The noise was louder now; it sounded like a man screaming. Curious and wary, he slowly opened the door.

He couldn't see anything but various cars and machinery, but the screaming was amplified now. With a shock, he realized that it was Tony. Fear pricked his skin and made the hairs on his arms stand up straight as he entered briskly into the room, searching for the hero.

Comically, all he had to do was follow the trail of empty, broken alcohol bottles. They led him straight to the couch, where a seemingly passed-out Tony was shrieking. The cry was gut wrenching.

"Tony!" Steve said hurriedly, moving to the man's side. He carefully placed a hand on Tony's arm, wondering if it was safe to wake him. "Tony?"

"Not him!" Tony screeched, and the syllables rang so loud and clear that it chilled Steve to the core. "Not him, please, God, St--"

And with a shuddering gasp, Tony's eyes flew open. He was drenched in sweat, his hand bloody from the scotch glass he'd crushed in his sleep. Steve jumped backwards, heart racing.

"Tony...?" He questioned in a whisper, afraid to make another move.

"Son of a bitch," The brunet swore, shaking the glass from his hand. "Fuck. What the hell..."

At any other time, Steve might have scolded Tony for his language. But the Captain himself was still taken off guard. He didn't know what to do.

Tony seemed to notice Steve's presence in the room, and he turned to look at the male. A low gasp escaped his lips when his eyes focused on him, and then he sighed. Almost as if he were relieved to see the blond.

"Jesus. S-sorry about that. Guess this scotch is some pretty shifty stuff."

For a few seconds, neither spoke. And then Steve cleared his throat.

"Are you.... Are you okay, Tony?"

He waved a hand in dismissal. "Fine, fine. Just a nightmare. I get those a lot."

You're not the only one.

"Yeah," Steve breathed, eyes fluttering to his hands. "I know how you feel."

This seemed to be new information to Tony, but any inference he might have had wasn't voiced. He looked back to the blood, to his injured hand. "Yeah, well, sorry to bother you. Should probably clean this all up. Hey, Dummy?"

Steve was momentarily offended, thinking the billionaire was referencing him, but shook his head as the robot rolled over. It made several beeping sounds at Tony.

"Clean this up," He commanded, gesturing to the mess as he swung his legs over the side of the couch and started to stand up. "And make sure the blood doesn't-- shit!"

Unsteady on his feet, Tony started to tumble to the ground. But Steve had sharp reflexes and was there to catch him. There was a solid moment where neither of them moved, neither of them uttered a sound. Then Tony looked up at Steve, and both their faces were nearly the same shade of pink.

Tony cleared his throat and regained his balance, pulling out of Steve's hold. He wouldn't look at the man.

"Anyway..." He said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I should go to bed now... So... Goodnight, Gramps."

Before Steve could reply, Tony disappeared. Now only he and Dummy remained, the latter busily cleaning up the glass shards that littered the couch and floor.

It seemed to notice when its master had fled though, and turned its mechanical head toward Steve. It sounded almost confused when it beeped at him.

"I don't know what just happened, so don't look at me." Steve mumbled absentmindedly, his fatigue hitting him again. "I don't think Tony does, either."


	5. Chapter 5

For the next few days following Tony's nightmare, Steve didn't see the man. Not because the billionaire was avoiding him, nor the other way around, but because Steve had come down with some sort of sickness that was unceremoniously kicking his ass.

Yes, it seemed that while he was super strong and super agile, he was not super immune to everything.

He lie uselessly in his bed, surrounded by books and sketches and tissues as well. Steve was never one for a mess, so this was driving him up a wall. But any time he tried to move to clean the space, he grew dizzy and had to sit down right away again.

Jarvis had sent up some medication that Steve was now taking regularly, and he had to admit he wasn't as bad as he had been yesterday. He didn't ask what it was, and Jarvis didn't tell him. He was just happy it was working.

Admittedly, he was a little surprised none of his teammates came up to check on him. Many times he wondered if they'd been called on a mission and neglected to see why he didn't show up, but assurances from the AI calmed these suspicions.

No matter, he was getting terribly lonely and bored sitting up in bed all alone.

It was just nearing four in the afternoon on the fourth day of his sickness when he heard knocking on the door. After being in solitude for what seemed to him like a long time, it took a few seconds for the Captain to register what the sound was. When he'd figured it out, he called for the visitor to come in.

"Hey, Cap! I was just -- whoa. Damn, was there a tornado in here? Looks like Thor got pissed off in the middle of a paper factory."

Steve felt his heart's pace quicken when he saw Tony, the man looking around incredulously at the room. Suddenly he was very embarrassed of the clutter.

"Oh, yeah, that," He stuttered nervously, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and trying all-too-quickly to stand up. "Just a bit of artist's frustration is all..."

Tony looked at the soldier in befuddlement, and then rushed forward as the still sick Steve grew dizzy and began losing his balance. Hands reached out and planted themselves firmly on the blond's forearm and waist, and when he realized what was happening he blushed a brilliant shade of red.

"Sorry." He mumbled as soon as Steve was sitting safely on the bed, quickly releasing his grip on the man.

"S'okay." The latter whispered back, his own face laced with a blush that wasn't fading anytime soon. God, what was happening to him? To Tony?

Neither man spoke again. Steve's wall clock ticked.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

"So, uh..." Tony began, and then cleared his throat before he went on. "I just came up here to see why you haven't been to any of our two meetings these past few days. But it's quite obvious you are on death's door, and I shall alert Fury to elect a new leader of the Avengers."

"Tony." Steve sighed, running a hand over his face, but the billionaire kept rambling.

"I personally believe I would be an excellent leader, I mean I've got the style, the money--"

"Tony." He tried again, but the hero was unfazed.

"--I mean I wouldn't look NEARLY as good in the Stars and Stripes as you do, but I'm sure my suit will do just--"

"Damn it, Tony, would you shut it for just a minute?" Steve snapped, and instantly felt guilty for doing so. But why? Wasn't this how it used to be?

Still, he'd gotten what he wanted, and Tony was now quietly looking at him, blinking.

"Why did you come here?" He asked, more softly this time. A hand lifted and gestured toward the room, as if the man needed clarification.

The Iron Man cleared his throat, shrugged, and then scratched the back of his neck. Nervousness was painted all over him. "I, uh... Just thought I owed you after what happened the other night. You know..."

Steve did know. He was talking about the night that the Captain heard him screaming in the garage, and had gone to check up on him. Steve briefly wondered if Tony knew he'd heard him talking in his sleep.

Not him! He'd shouted. Not him! Please, God, St--

Whose name had Tony been about to say? Surely it couldn't have been his own.

Instead of bringing it up, he simply said, "I know. Thanks, Tony. It means a lot."

And it did. For not having visitors since he'd fallen ill, Steve felt awfully touched that it was Tony Stark himself that bothered to check up on him. Even if the man was only doing so to pay back a favor.

Steve wouldn't dare say out loud how happy he was to see Tony.

"You're welcome, Spangles." Tony replied, flashing a lopsided smile that looked slightly off to Steve. "I, uh, also brought you this."

From his jacket pocket he produced a small bottle of liquid; something Steve presumed to be medicine.

"Stark, I'm flattered, but you know I'm not an alcoholic." The Captain joked, earning a sincere chuckle from Tony. The blush had mostly faded from his cheeks. Mostly.

"Good one. But it's actually super high-tech tonic that should make you feel all shiny and new in less than a day. Maybe sooner knowing your kick-ass immune system. Which brings me to my next question - how the hell did you manage to get sick anyway?"

Tony was rambling again. But for some reason, Steve didn't mind. He liked listening to him speak; well, when he wasn't being a self-absorbed asshole. And he wasn't, at least not right now.

Steve smiled. "I'm just as confused as you are."

Taking the bottle from Tony's fingers, he had to hide the shiver that coursed his body when their skin briefly touched. With a shaking hand he set the tonic on the nightstand beside his bed, then clutched the side of the mattress to hide the trembling.

"Thank you." He said, causing Tony's brown orbs to shift from his hand to the soldier's face. "I appreciate it."

The corners of the brunet's mouth lifted ever so slightly, and then he nodded and motioned toward the door.

"I'll let you get some rest, then." He muttered, and moved to leave. "If you need anything, tell Jarvis. I'll, uh... Get it right to you."

Steve smiled sincerely, bobbing his head towards his teammate. "Will do. Goodnight, Tony."

The hero paused at the door, hand on the knob, and turned to face him.  
"Goodnight, Steve."


	6. Chapter 6

Tony was right - the tonic had Steve feeling better in absolutely no time. In fact, by the next morning he was up and cleaning his room. He felt like he'd never been sick. In the back of his mind he elected to ask Tony what was in the stuff, although he wasn't so sure he wanted the answer.

After his room had been restored back to its rightful condition (also known as making it look as though no one had ever occupied it) he made his way out and down to the kitchen, stomach growling for food long over due.

Sitting at the bar sipping a cup of coffee and poring over a complicated-looking set of equations was none other than Dr. Bruce Banner himself, and Steve was awkwardly relieved that it wasn't Tony.

He wasn't sure what was going on with the man, and definitely had no idea what his feelings towards him were. He was starting to get the haunting suspicion that whatever they were, they weren't platonic. The man didn't want to dwell on that realization for too long, so he made his way over to the coffee pot and poured a mug of the stuff, inhaling the rich scent of the liquified beans.

"Ah, good morning, Steve." Bruce said warmly, looking up from his papers and smiling towards the Captain. "Haven't seen you around for a few days. Tony mentioned you were sick."

Steve took a long sip of his black drink before answering; the coffee seemed to fill every inch of him with a sense of calming warmth. "Yeah... I miss anything?"

Bruce shook his head, motioning around the room. "Same old, same old. There was a meeting to discuss safety protocols, but I can give you the notes for that."

Typical Bruce. He was a genuinely caring and kind man, and some thought he tried too hard to make up for the Other Guy when he didn't have to do that in the first place.

"That would be great," Steve responded gratefully, because he didn't like falling behind on the team's agenda. "Although I've had my fill of reading these past few days."

This earned a chuckle from the doctor, but then his expression turned serious. His calm gaze shifted to Steve's eyes, the corners of his lips turned down as he asked, "Hey, have you noticed anything off about Tony?"

Mid-sip, Steve almost choked on his coffee. Internally chastising himself for making his unsettlement so obvious, he quickly covered up the action with a simple cough and set down the mug, trying to act nonchalant.

"Not a thing," He lied guiltily. "Why? Is he alright?"

If Bruce sensed his dishonesty, he didn't vocalize it. Instead he shrugged and glanced briefly down at his equations. "He seems a bit distracted lately. When we're working on something in the lab, it's not long before he gets restless and walks out. If you talk to him he jumps, like he's on edge. And he always looks like he's deep in thought about something."

There was a pause, and maybe the doctor thought that Steve was going to interject. But he didn't, so Bruce continued on.

"I guess I just thought maybe you might know what's bothering him."

A long moment followed, and Steve used this as an excuse to take a sip of his drink; more carefully this time. "I had no idea. Hope he's okay."

Well, at least part of that is true.

"Me too." Bruce said thoughtfully, and then shook his head. He swiveled his stool around and stood, gathering his papers and coffee mug as he did so. "It's Tony, he'll pull through. He always does."

Steve had a brief flashback of the night in the garage almost a week ago, of Tony shouting in his sleep. The memory made his skin crawl.

The doctor crossed the room and placed his empty mug in the sink, rubbing his hand over his face before he made for the exit. "You have a good day, Steve. It's great to see you up and around again."

Steve was barely listening. He mumbled a gracious reply, but his mind was on another subject.

He'd reached a decision.

He had to go talk to Tony and sort this out.


	7. Chapter 7

The first place Steve went to look for Tony was the garage. He figured that was where the Iron Man spent most of his time, because he knew how the hero loved to tinker with his cars and suits. Besides, Tony'd had a full bar installed there.

But when the door opened, he heard not the sounds of tools whirring, nor of rock music pounding. He heard nothing, which surprised him. Still, he couldn't help his curiosity as he moved further inside, eyes roaming around the room.

All of the glass and blood had been cleaned up from that night. It wasn't a shock to Steve, only an observation. Everything was neat and in order, except for Tony's desk.

Blueprints were scattered all over the surfaced, and upon coming closer he noted that they were the plans for a new suit. Steve didn't understand any of the equations that were scrawled on the sides.  
Suddenly, he noticed something black and shiny out of the corner of his eye. The blueprints forgotten, he turned his head to investigate and felt himself grow excited.

His motorcycle!

Okay, so perhaps it was weird for a man to become so happy after seeing his vehicle, but Steve didn't care. This was his motorcycle, his means of transportation. More importantly, this was a 1940's model - it was like a piece of his old life.

He loved that motorcycle so much. A smile spread across his lips as he brushed his fingers over the smooth surface, so shiny he could just make out his reflection in it.

It was a shame that the engine was shot. He remembered the last time he rode it and how the thing gave out on him three miles away from the Tower. That had been a long walk home, pushing the bike beside him.

Perhaps he would take it for a spin when it was fixed, but right now he had to focus on finding Tony. Leaving his bike where it stood, he exited the garage and resumed his search.

After a while of roaming the tower's halls and coming up empty-handed, Steve was beginning to give up. Maybe the male had gone out for a meeting, or was checking in at his Malibu home. But wouldn't he have let someone know?

Just as he was opening his mouth to ask Jarvis if he knew where the billionaire was, the AI was speaking to him.

"Mr. Rogers, would you be so kind as to give your aid to Mr. Stark? He is intoxicated in the penthouse, top floor."

Steve raised an eyebrow, but was already hurrying toward the elevator. "Isn't he always intoxicated?"

"Yes," Jarvis agreed, but there was a degree of tiredness in his artificial voice; it made him seem almost human in a way. "But he is destroying the facility, sir. He will not answer to me."

The soldier shook his head and punched in the button for the top floor. "I'm on my way, Jarvis."

"Thank you, sir."

-x-

As soon as the metal doors of the elevator slid open, Steve caught sight of a champagne glass being flung across the room, and he winced at the tinkling sound it made as it shattered against the wall. Tony was in a drunken rage, mumbling incoherently as he destroyed his possessions.

"Stark!" Steve shouted, moving towards the male. Tony turned, and the Captain paused in his tracks.

The hero looked like shit, and that was putting it nicely. His eyes were so red that the whites of them weren't white at all, but tainted pink. Prominent bags under them made it definite that the man hadn't slept in a while. His clothes were dirty and hanging awkwardly on his frame, almost as if he'd been pulling at them anxiously.

Tony's entire appearance made Steve's heart give a leap.

"Rogers," The drunk man slurred, knocking back another sip of what looked to be whiskey. "How did you find me?"

"Jarvis." Steve replied, and reached for the bottle. Tony yanked his hand back, eyes narrowing at his teammate.

"What're you tryin' to do, cut me off?" He chuckled then, a rather dry sound. Another sip and the bottle was empty. He reared his hand back to throw it across the room, but Steve was too quick and powerful for him.

He grabbed the container from Tony and set it down on the bar behind him, making sure there was nothing in Tony's path that could be thrown at him. "Okay, let's get you to bed, Stark."

"Or not." Came the hero's garbled response, and he tried to duck away from Steve. But once again, the Captain was too quick. He gently but firmly gripped Tony's arms and began to lead him away from the mess.

"Why do ya gotta be such a good guy, Captain Fuddy Duddy?" He was mumbling about how Steve never had any fun, about how old he was, and the other man was trying to ignore him. He was successful in being ignored until they reached the door to a bedroom, and that's when he said something that made Steve stop in his tracks.

"Steve, I think I like you. Not like a friend, because you're an irritating bastard. But like I want to kiss you...Yeah, I want to kiss you."

Face pale, Steve looked down at the man in his arms, whose body was now slack and leaning against the bigger male's with his full weight. He was quickly aware of how fast his heart was racing, and swallowed a strange lump in his throat.

"Tony, you're drunk." He mumbled, his words laced with a touch of disappointment. "You won't remember this in the morning."

He doesn't mean it, Steve tried to tell himself as he dragged the man to the bed. And you need to get a hold on yourself. Suck it up, Rogers.

Tony had a stubborn expression on his face, as if he were trying to think of a way to convince Steve he was telling the truth. This made it easy for the bigger man to get him into bed and under the covers, gently tugging them over his chest.

"Goodnight, Tony." Steve said tiredly, and then turned to walk away.

"Wait!" The hero called out, and grabbed the blond's hand before he could get too far.

"What--" He'd started to say, but his words were stopped as he was yanked down and their lips crashed together. A twinge of pain spiked his mouth at the sudden contact, but was quickly devolved with the feeling of electricity. Then, just a peaceful serenity.

Steve's body was filled with effervescence. He had a dim memory of he time he'd broken his ankle at age five and had gotten pills for the pain. The numbness in his being then resembled what he felt now.

Contradiction squeezed his mind, as he came from a time where a man kissing a man was an abomination, but he felt so at peace kissing Tony that he pushed that nagging inkling away.  
Seconds later and the embrace was broken by Steve himself, because he couldn't breathe. Face flushed and still only inches away from Tony, he tried to catch his breath. He could smell the alcohol radiating off of the other man.

"See?" The Iron Man muttered, lowering himself back to the bed. "Wasn't lying."

"Yeah," Steve whispered, looking down at his hand, which Tony still clutched. He still had a feeling that the man would forget this in the morning, judging by how much alcohol he'd consumed. "I know. I... I like you too, Tony."

Now that the words were out, everything suddenly made sense. It was like he'd been thinking about things in a different language, but hearing it out loud in plain English made the meaning crystal clear. He shivered.

Tony's lopsided smile appeared on his face, and he allowed himself to flop back against the bed. In this moment, he looked like a giddy teenager. Maybe that's how he felt.

Steve disappeared back to his room after Tony passed out only minutes later, his mind running a mile a minute and his lips still tingling with the taste of Tony.

That night, there were no nightmares. Only plain, calming darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning came and for once, Steve Rogers woke up feeling rested. He was out of bed and halfway through taking a shower when last night's events hit him.

Tony Stark had kissed him.

It was a drunk kiss, but it was a kiss. And now Steve was faced with the condescending realization that he liked a man. This discovery was met with mixed feelings.

Back in the forties, homosexuality was all but extinct. No one ever spoke much of it that Steve could recall, but one occurrence stood out in his mind...

He was still very young, accompanying his mother on his first trip to the market. As a sick child, all the various smells and colors around him were something of an excitement he'd never experienced before. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him in his eight short years.  
Suddenly, he heard the sound of a slap echoing across the berth. His attention was ripped from the bright, red apples to a young man and a woman, the latter towering over him. He seemed to be cowering.

"Disgrace!" She was shouting, and the male was not meeting her gaze. "You have disgraced this family and the name of God!"

"I love him, Mother." The boy was saying, a confidence in his voice that didn't match his expression. "Why is that such a bad thing?"

"Man shall not lie with man!" The lady screeched, and shoved the boy to the ground. The crowd of people within the market had formed a circle around the pair, all shouting about how disgusting the boy was.

"The Devil has possessed him!" One older man was yelling, jabbing a stubby finger in the victim's direction. "Kill him! Kill him!"

Steve could remember how frightened he was, and would never forget the image of the gay man being beaten until he was nothing but a giant bruise. He could remember hiding in his mother's skirt, crying, begging her to let them leave...

He jumped with a start as Jarvis' voice sounded through the ceiling, now vaguely aware that his shower had run quite cold.

"Sir, Fury is requesting you. The city of Chicago is under attack. By the Frost Giants, if I am being specific."

"Great." Steve said sarcastically, slightly breathless. He brushed his hair away from his face and turned the water off, stepping out and grabbing a towel. "I'll be there in three minutes."

Two minutes and fifty four seconds later Steve was dressed and making his way up the ramp into the helicarrier, where the rest of his team was waiting for him. Nearly all of them glanced up to him, save for Tony, who looked away as soon as he'd caught a meager glance of the Captain.

"Hey, Captain." Natasha greeted, passing the blond a cup of coffee. He took it with a gracious 'thank you' and sipped cautiously at the hot liquid. "Seems Loki's family is angry at us."

Clint snorted. "And that's putting it nicely."

Taking his seat across from Tony, he was careful not to glance at the billionaire as he responded. "What's their play?"

"Chaos, what else?" Now Fury spoke, and Steve was ashamed to realize he hadn't noticed the director's presence. "Morning, Cap'. Haven't seen you for a while."

"Sir." Steve acknowledged, and then listened to what the others were saying about the attack.  
Roughly an hour ago, the Giants had broken through Earth's barrier and stormed the city of Chicago. Their true intent wasn't clear, but they were causing immense destruction and chaos all over the city. Nearly two hundred civilians were already dead.

Thankfully Thor was here, and had experience fighting the monsters once before. He talked them through several strategies, and warned them not to touch the Giants' skin under any circumstances. To do so would give them severe frost bite immediately upon contact.

Steve felt nervousness and adrenaline mix in the bottom of his stomach, the way it always did before a fight. But he was ready. He had full faith that the Avengers could handle this.

They landed straight in the middle of chaos. Shield in his hand, he charged off of the helicarrier and right for his first monster. Noticing its enemy, the Giant swung its frozen club in the Captain's direction, and he just barely dodged it in time.

Distancing himself from his attacker, Steve sent his shield flying like a Frisbee toward the monster. It sliced into its calf with a sickening sound, effectively amputating it. Disoriented and startled, it toppled to the ground. Steve used this as an opportunity to use his shield as a sort of sword and decapitate it.

One down, countless more to go.

-x-

The fight was nearing its second hour when things started to go terribly wrong for the Avengers. The Hulk was being swarmed by the monsters, who had decided that he was their biggest threat and that he needed to be taken down first.

The assassins were perched in the window of a building only barely standing, arrows and bullets flying at the icy beasts. They were quickly running out of ammo.

Only Tony and Thor seemed to be doing okay; the Iron Man attacking from above and the Norse God taking full advantage of his lightning powers.

Steve was struggling with a rather large Frost Giant, who yielded two icy swords and was swinging rapidly at the Captain with them. He was quickly tiring out, and wondered just how much longer he could hold this monster off.

Suddenly another beast was coming at him, and what was in its hand was not a weapon of ice but comically, a street pole. Steve realized with a sickening dread that he would not be able to defend himself because he was too busy with the doubly-armed Giant.

He watched in horror as the pole was raised and then swung in his direction, and felt the full impact of the mast as it smashed into his side. He felt his ribs crack as he was thrown forcefully out of the other Giant's path and into a nearby car.

"Shit." He gasped, every breath sending a searing pain through his torso. "S-shit. I'm down. I'm d-down."

"Hold on."

Steve closed his eyes at the sound of Tony's voice, because while he hadn't expected it he was glad it was Tony, that the last thing he heard would be Tony's voice. His vision was quickly fading, his super strength leaving him.

"Steve!"

His name was muffled, and it was so quiet that Steve wasn't even sure he'd heard it. Maybe he was imagining things... His mind was quickly becoming foggy...

"Steve, stay with me."

Tony.

"Tony..." The wounded Captain croaked, blood coming up his throat. He tried desperately to force it back down. "Tony, I need to tell you something."

He was aware of his broken body being scooped up, and barely registered the feeling of cold metal pressing against his pale, bleeding flesh. He couldn't hear Tony say anything, so he kept speaking.

"Tony, I think I like you, too." His voice was a breathless whisper by this point, and he wasn't even sure that the Iron Man had heard him. But he had said it, and could die now knowing that he finally got to tell Tony how he felt, even in a mediocre way.

Steve's eyes fluttered open and then closed again, and he fell into a sea of black.


	9. Chapter 9

Beep...beep...beep.

Steve groaned, every inch of his body throbbing. He tried to move his hand but found it as heavy as a boulder.

Where am I?

After a few seconds of working up the strength, his heavy eyelids lifted. A bright light blinded him, and he made another groaning noise as he shut his eyes again.

"Captain."

The voice was familiar to him, deep and steady, but he couldn't remember from where. If only he could open his eyes long enough to see who it was!

"Mm..." He mumbled, fingers twitching. Slowly he was beginning to regain control over his limbs, but his priority right now was focusing his eyes.

And after a few moments, he was able to do so. His eyes nearly adjusted to the light, he squinted up at the person who'd spoken his name.

Director Fury.

"Oh, sir--" Steve said, immediately trying to sit up out of respect for his superior. The Director held up a hand to stop him, not wanting the man to exert himself further than needed.

"No need for that." He said, and his voice was so quiet and calm at the moment that it made Steve want to fall asleep again. "You've been out for several days, Steve. For a moment, we weren't sure they would be able to fix you."

In pure shock, Steve tried to remember what had happened to him. The details came back like water dripping from a faucet.

The Frost Giants, the street light being swung at him, flying across the street and smashing into a car...

Vaguely he remembered being carried by Tony, and heard his own voice inside of his head.

Tony... He'd said. I think I like you.

He couldn't remember Tony responding, which frustrated him. What had the hero said to his incoherent rambling?

Nonetheless, he could feel his heart fluttering because he'd confessed the one thing he had failed to understand. And it still didn't make any sense to him why he liked the son of the man who made him who he is today.

Fury was patient as Steve recollected his memories, but after a couple minutes he cleared his throat.

"Captain, you were hurt pretty badly by those Giants. You broke four ribs and one of them punctured your lung. That's fixed now, and you'll be sore for a few days. But you hit your head on the roof of the car and it gave you a concussion, so you'll need to take it easy."

A concussion. That explained why his head was pounding so hard all of the sudden. He let his eyes close, but remained awake.

"Your leg was also crushed in the attack. You'll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life, Rogers."

His eyes opened again and lowered to his legs. Sure enough, the left one was in a heavy cast, but he couldn't feel it. Anesthesia. 

"Did we win?" The weak blond asked softly, gaze moving back to his superior. The dark skinned man smiled tightly, as if it pained him to do so.

"Don't you always?" 

Another short moment of silence. Steve was happy they'd defeated the Giants, that the world was once again just a little bit safer. He felt a surge of peace swarm his stomach.

"When can I get out of here?" He mumbled seconds later, gaze drifting back to Fury's face. The man's brow was furrowed in what looked like concern, but Steve couldn't be sure.

"In a few days." The Director responded, and climbed to his feet. "You just rest, Cap. You deserve it."

Fury left then, leaving Steve all alone in the hospital room. He exhaled softly and closed his eyes.

He suddenly wondered if Tony was alright.


	10. Chapter 10

Several days after he'd first woken up in the hospital, Steve was allowed to leave the wretched place.

Okay, it wasn't completely awful. But he hated being stuck in one place and unable to do anything for himself.

He was in the middle of trying to tug his shoe on his casted foot when he heard someone come in. Looking up, the shoe promptly slipped from his hand as his eyes widened.

"Hey, Cap." Tony said sheepishly, smiling awkwardly at the man. "Ready to blow this place?"

Steve was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say to Tony, didn't know if the man had heard him during the battle or not.

I think I like you...

"Uh..." He responded, fingers fumbling for his fallen shoe. "Hey... Tony."

The brunet scratched the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. The air felt so thick in the room that Steve was finding it hard to breathe. Somehow, he'd gotten his shoes on though.

"Can we just get out of here?" He grumbled, reaching for his crutches and hauling himself to his feet. "And... Can we stop at Burger King?"

This made a bright smile break out on Tony's face, eyes shining. Steve felt his heart skip a beat. "It's like you read my mind. Let's go, Spangly!"

Grabbing his teammate's few things, Tony slipped from the room. The blond man followed him, a smile on his face as he hobbled along.

The sun was shining brightly as they exited the building, and Steve actually had to close his eyes for a moment - he was so used to the harsh, artificial lighting that the hospital provided. Tony was patient, however, and led the Captain to the car at his own pace.

Climbing into the old Mustang with his bum leg was a bit of a struggle, but they managed. Soon they were zooming out of the parking lot and speeding down the highway.

Literally; speeding.

"Uh, Tony?" Steve questioned, his blue eyes coming to rest on the speedometer. Eighty-five, it read. "Don't you think we should slow down? The speed limit is only sixty..."

Tony barked a laugh, but made no move to slow the vehicle down. "Relax, I'm an excellent driver! This isn't Final Destination; we'll be fine."

Steve opened his mouth to ask what in the hell Final Destination was, but closed it again. It wasn't worth it.

By some miracle, they made it home alive. After parking his Mustang in the garage, Tony gathered up Steve's things and their food and carried them over to his messy desk, where he set them down after clearing a spot. Steve collapsed onto the couch nearby and closed his eyes, thankful to be home at last.

He didn't react when he felt the sofa shift beside him, because he knew that Tony had only taken a seat beside him. But as the scent of food grew stronger he opened his eyes. A burger was held in front of his face. He took it eagerly.

"Thanks." He said gratefully, unwrapping the sandwich and biting into it. It tasted amazing - far better than absolutely anything he'd eaten at the hospital.

"No problem." Tony said, and then they fell silent again as they ate. But this was okay, because though they weren't talking they were still doing something to occupy their time.

And both men greatly enjoyed the other's company in more ways than one.

Once they were finished eating, Tony threw their garbage into the can. From there they sat on the couch and stared at the cars in front of them.

Now it was awkward.

"Um..." Steve mumbled after a few long, agonizing minutes. "So..."

"I heard what you said." Tony blurted out, surprising both of them. His face was tinted pink.  
Steve said nothing.

"Back in Chicago, I mean. When you..." The brunet trailed off, but the other male knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Oh." Was all Steve said, though he was made suddenly aware of his heart - it was racing in his chest.

"Steve," The hero whispered when he realized that the man wasn't going to elaborate any further than that. "Look at me."

He did.

Time stopped. The only two people in the world were Steve and Tony, and they were both looking at each other, blue eyes locked on brown ones. Tony said something but it wasn't coherent, and it didn't matter because Steve wasn't listening anyway.

Because Tony was leaning in, and then Steve wasn't looking at those deep, brown eyes anymore. His eyes were now gazing at Tony's lips, growing closer, closer, closer until he couldn't see them anymore.

And when he couldn't see them, he could feel them. Tony Stark was kissing him. Steve didn't pull away - he didn't want to pull away.

They had kissed before, but this one was different. It was free of intoxication and full of sobriety, of thoughts left unspoken.

It took Steve's breath away, as cliché as that sounds.

Tony leaned back as they ran out of air, still no more than five inches from Steve's face.

"Jesus..." He'd whispered breathlessly, eyes flickering from blue orbs to Steve's lips and back again.

"Tony..." Steve mumbled back, and then pulled his head back ever so slightly. "What does this mean?"

"That I'm not just a lady's man." The billionaire said cheekily, flashing a slight grin as he sat up straight again.

Shaking his head, Steve let out a chuckle. "Seriously, Tony."

"You're right, you're right." He agreed, and then heaved a sigh. "It means that you like me. And well, I kissed you, didn't I? And I'm not drunk, so... I must obviously like you, too."

Steve didn't respond - the words made him feel too giddy. He didn't trust his voice.

"Should we give this a shot?" Tony asked, gesturing between them.

"I'm willing to." The Captain responded, because he was. As scared as he was, he knew his feelings for Tony were true and lasting, that they weren't just going to fizzle out.

The Iron Man's answering smile dazzled him. "Then, Captain Steve Rogers, will you be my boyfriend?"

A shy smile appeared on Steve's face, and he nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Anthony Stark. I will."

"Don't call me that. God, you make me sound so old."


	11. Chapter 11

Tony played nurse to Steve for the next six weeks until the man's cast came off. It was during this time that they began to grow closer.

The pair spent their days in the garage, with Tony playing with his various suits and cars and Steve lounged on the couch, sketch book or novel in hand. They didn't talk too much, but that was okay. It was the feeling of each other's presence that mattered to them.

When it started getting dark out, Tony would turn to the Captain and say that he was absolutely dying of hunger. It became a routine, and Steve would continue it by simply chuckling and asking what country the billionaire wanted to go to tonight.

On the forty-third day of Steve's recovery, when his cast was off and he could walk again, Tony picked India.

Roughly half an hour after this decision, the men sat on the couch in the garage, boxes of Indian take out in between them. It was quiet, as it usually was between them.

But halfway through the meal, Tony spoke up. "So, uh, you wanna go somewhere tonight? For real?"

Steve perked an eyebrow and looked to the man. "You mean, like a date?"

The brunet's face reddened. Steve couldn't help but think how dorky his boyfriend was. "Um... Yes."

Smiling, the Captain put a hand on Tony's knee. "I'd love to."

-x-

Once the sun had set and the moon was a prominent contrast against the black sky, the men got into Tony's Lamborghini and set off for Times Square. Tony argued that it wasn't that special of a place, really, but Steve hadn't really been there since before he went in the ice. He was dying to see how much everything had changed.

And because Tony wanted badly to make his boyfriend happy, he agreed to take them there.  
He parked the car a little ways away from the Square's center and got out, opening Steve's door for him as well. This made the blond blush - he felt like his masculinity was being discriminated against, but he didn't say anything. He stepped out of the car and walked forward.

He walked until he was in the center of the Square and then stopped. Bright lights adorned the various buildings, making them look bigger than they already were. Flashing billboards advertised dozens of different brands and companies that the soldier had never heard of, but that was okay. He was completely in awe over the grandeur of everything.

While Steve was busy admiring the lights, Tony was admiring the Captain himself. He adored how the lights from the Square reflected in Steve's eyes, making the blue orbs brighter than they usually were. A big smile was on the blond's face, his mouth slightly open as he took in his surroundings. Tony was pretty sure he had a matching expression as well.

He stepped up to the man, pulling Steve out of his reverie. The Captain looked down at him, his face still enlightened. Tony took his hands without thinking about it.

"It's not Stark Tower, but it's something." He said coyly, his grin lopsided but his eyes alive.

Steve snorted. "It's better than Stark Tower. No offense."

"Ouch," Tony retorted, faking hurt. "You hurt my feelings."

"Oh, I'm sorry," The soldier replied, but didn't sound anything of the sort. "Will this make up for it?"

Before Tony had a chance to reply, Steve's lips were on his. Cheeks reddening and heartbeat increasing, he relaxed into the embrace. His hands flattened against Steve's back, trying to bring him closer to himself.

Steve's own arms wrapped and overlapped around Tony's shoulders, and the two men found themselves as close as a pair of human beings could ever physically be.

As much as Steve still fought with himself over the morality of his new relationship, he couldn't deny that he'd never felt this alive with anyone else, not even Peggy Carter.

Tony was the sunshine peaking through grey storm clouds. He was the warmth of a fire on a cold winter's day.

He was everything good about this new world that Steve still didn't fully comprehend, but that didn't matter.

Because as long as Tony was his, the world didn't scare him so much anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

After their date, Tony and Steve returned to the Tower. Unable to contain his excitement, Steve told the hero all about how Times Square looked back in the forties, and that led to him telling stories about his days in World War 2.

In fact, he was still telling stories when they had parked the car and resumed position in the garage. The only thing that changed was that Tony joined Steve on the couch, abandoning his suits for the time being.

"...and I had to get up on stage and put on a show about war bonds. There was singing and dancing, and I punched Hitler in the face about two hundred times." Steve was saying, a cross between a cringe and a smile on his face at the memory.

"You punched Hitler in the face while singing about war bonds?" Tony asked incredulously, unable to hide his laughter. The image in his head of Steve singing and dancing was too much to handle.

"I wasn't the one singing; the girls were--" He began to defend, but Tony interrupted him.

"Ooh, girls. Were they hot?"

Steve cast the man a glare, making Tony stop laughing and cough awkwardly.

"Sorry," He mumbled, and leaned over and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "Besides, they're probably all wrinkly and old by now, if not dead. Unlike you, they actually age with time."

The Captain shook his head and took Tony's hand, lacing their fingers together. "I'll still look like this when you're eighty, you know."

This made Tony stop. He hadn't really thought about it before, but Steve was right. Due to the serum still coursing through his veins, the Captain wasn't going to age. Tony would die off in about thirty years and Steve would go on living.

If neither of them died in battle, that is. But the hero didn't want to think about that right now.

"Hey," Steve said softly, noticing the blank look on Tony's face and only assuming he was fretting about the topic. "Don't worry about that right now. That won't happen for a long time."

"I was just thinking about how when I'm older, everyone will call me a cougar. Because you'll be so young but with an old man." Tony said quickly, recovering himself. Steve sighed.

"Can you go an entire day without giving an ounce of sass?" The soldier mumbled, not really needing an answer to that question. He pulled Tony close to him, wrapping his arms around the brunet's waist so that his back was to the bigger man's chest.

Tony flashed a smile, which was paired with the slight blush that quickly appeared on his face. He nuzzled back into Steve's grasp lovingly, letting himself unwind against his lover.

"Can you believe we hated each other when we first met?" Steve chuckled after a moment's silence, his chin resting on Tony's shoulder. The smaller man gave a laugh.

"You were the apple of my father's eye," Tony said, his tone light but with a hint of detest. "Stole my spotlight from the moment I was born. Everything was about you. I hated you since I first heard the name 'Captain America.'"

Steve cringed, tightening his arms around the man. "God, I'm sorry, Tony. Really. I don't... I wish it wouldn't have had to be like that. Howard was a good man."

"Or so they say." Tony said, but shook his head and dismissed the matter. He never liked talking about Howard. "So, why did you hate me?"

The Captain thought for a moment and then shrugged, letting his cheek rest against Tony's; he could feel the man's facial hair prick his face.

"You reminded me so much of your father," He whispered, fingers tracing the man's abs through the fabric of his t-shirt. Tony shivered. "And I was so angry with them for finding me in the ice and waking me up. I was frustrated that I didn't fit in, didn't understand the way this new world worked. I blamed Howard, because if he'd never done that experiment on me, I would have never gone through that."

Silence followed this confession, and only the sound of each other's breathing bounced off their eardrums.

"You fit in with me. With the Avengers." Tony said softly, twisting his head to look up at Steve. He was met with a sad, blue-eyed gaze. "We wouldn't be us without you. This world, this 'new' one... Wouldn't be the same if you weren't here fighting for it."

Steve knew that Tony was right, and he hated that. Exhaling slowly, he buried his face in the man's neck and breathed in his musky scent; it was a comfort to him.

"I think you're the first person I've ever admitted that to." He whispered into Tony's skin.

The hero patted Steve's arm and pressed a kiss to his sandy blond hair. "I'm honored, Cap."

Pulling his face away, he looked down at Tony and smiled, suddenly feeling tired. "What time is it?"

"Two in the morning." Tony responded automatically, never taking his eyes off of Steve's.

The soldier crinkled his face. "You didn't even look!"

"I have a hunch," Tony grinned, but then he got an idea. "Let's make a deal. If I'm right, you have to spend the night in my room."

"And if you're wrong?"

Tony shrugged. "Up to you."

Steve couldn't think of anything he possibly wanted; he had it all right here. After a moment, he'd gotten an idea. "I want you to help me fix my motorcycle. The engine's shot."

The hero nodded. "Deal."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. When he saw it, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Steve would be sleeping next to him that night.


	13. Chapter 13

Sleeping next to each other had to have been the best thing they'd shared so far. Well, Steve would argue that Times Square had been the best, but Tony would undoubtedly win the battle.

Neither man had any nightmares, in fact their dreams were quite pleasant. They slept in each other's arms, Tony's face buried in Steve's chest, and the latter's buried in soft, brown hair.

As usual, Steve was up at the crack of dawn. He didn't want to disturb his boyfriend, who looked so peaceful in his sleep, so he slipped carefully from the bed and replaced the covers over Tony's body. With a soft kiss to the brunet's cheek, Steve disappeared to his own room.

It had been a while since he'd been to the gym last - his knuckles had healed nicely since that incident and so had everything else. He was itching to get back and work out some more, so after grabbing his bag from his room, that's where he went.

He found it exactly as he'd left it the last time. It was spotless and a punching bag was already strung up in the middle of the room, waiting for him. This time, however, he took care to wrap his hands in tape before beating the crap out of the sack.

-x-

It was nearing lunch time when Steve finally emerged from the gym, covered in sweat with his muscles aching. But he didn't mind; this was ironically calming to him. He'd missed the feeling of self-induced exhaustion.

After a shower back in his room, he decided to seek out Tony. He was a little disappointed that the man hadn't come to find him while he was in the gym, but at the same time he was relieved. Too much time together would drive them up a wall, as much as he adored the Iron Man.  
Instinctively he decided to check the garage, but the second he stepped foot in the elevator, Jarvis was speaking.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Tony has requested that no one disturb him."

This made Steve frown. "Even me?"

"Even you." Jarvis reiterated, and Steve felt his heart sink. "My apologies, Mr. Rogers. I am sure he'll come find you when he has finished."

"Yeah," Steve grumbled, hitting the button to take him to the kitchen. "I'm sure, too."

-x-

Hours passed and there was still no sign of Tony. The sun was beginning to set by now, the light turning golden and dimming as Steve sat in front of the windows with a book in hand, trying to force himself to focus on the words.

He couldn't understand why Tony would want him to stay out of the garage. After all, they'd spent hours upon hours together, most of them while Tony was working on something. Steve wasn't a disruption - in fact, he would probably be sitting on the couch reading this same damn novel as Tony did whatever the hell he was currently doing.

He briefly wondered if he'd done anything wrong.

A little bit more of time passed before the man heard a knock on his door. By now his book was long forgotten, openly sprawled on the stand by his bed. He got up to answer the door and was met with the sight of Tony, black grease dried on his face. His eyes were twinkling.

"Hey!" He said brightly, and leaned in for a kiss. Steve pulled back, a little hurt that Tony was acting as if nothing had happened. The brunet looked taken aback. "What...?"

"You couldn't have let me in the garage?" Steve questioned, a frown on his face. He had to admit, he was acting a little childish. But he'd grown fond of Tony's company lately. It felt odd to go more than a few conscious hours without him. "I didn't know what to do all day."

"Well, you obviously knew what to do this morning." Tony frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "I woke up and you were gone."

"I always wake up early." The blond argued, suddenly irritated with the man. "I thought you'd know that by now."

"How was I supposed to know if that was the first time we ever spent a damn night together, Steve?"

Unable to argue with this, the Captain snorted. He moved to shut the door, now wanting to be alone. "Okay, well I'm going to bed."

Tony was quick to shove his foot between the door and the frame. "No, you're not. You're going to see what I spent all day slaving over."

"Tony, I'm not in the damn mood--"

"Does it look like I give a shit? No. Now come on. We're not arguing, not right now anyway. Let's go."

Defeated but still angry, Steve stepped through the door frame and shut it behind him. He waited silently for Tony to lead the way.

The walk down to the garage went without a word, but as soon as the door was in sight, Tony couldn't shut up about whatever it was he'd been doing all day; he wasn't specific about what it was. Steve wanted to hit him.

But the moment Tony led him inside and moved out of the way of his sight, Steve's anger diminished. In fact, he felt a sudden rush of happiness and shock, all in one.

There, ten feet away from him, stood his motorcycle. The engine was rumbling softly, smoothly. It was a beautiful noise.

"Sounds great, right?" Tony said cheerfully, grinning so wide his face looked as though it were going to split. "It was a stubborn one, but I eventually got it working. Even installed a cup holder for you!"

Tony was off in a ramble about just how exactly he'd fixed up the bike, but Steve couldn't care less how it had been done; he didn't understand half the words the man was saying, anyway. His motorcycle was now fixed, and the man he'd grown to hold dearly had done it himself.

He moved forward, grabbing Tony and crushing him in a tight hug. The other man, taken off guard, slowly returned the hug.

"Thank you so much." Steve breathed, the scent of musk and auto grease from Tony's hair trapped pleasantly in his nose. "Thank you."

The hero held him closely, relieved that the Captain wasn't angry with him anymore. "I know you lost the bet, but I also know how much this bike means to you. And that you don't really go anywhere. I felt bad, and I wanted to do something nice for you."

Steve pulled back, grinning broadly at Tony. "This is the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Tony."

Tony's heart gave a leap in his chest, and in pure giddiness he leaned forward and smashed their lips together, feeling on top of the world. Steve was happy, and he was happy because of him.  
He felt like he'd done something right for once.

Both men had completely forgotten about their small quarrel from earlier, because it didn't matter now. Only this did.

Once they'd run out of air, the kiss was broken. Pulling away, Steve took a few moments to catch his breath before he spoke again.

"Let's take her for a ride."


	14. Chapter 14

"Uh... Right now?" Tony asked, looking suddenly nervous. His eyes were wide, and he was scratching at some of the dried grease on his hands.

Steve raised his eyebrow and then snickered, shaking his head as he realized something. "You don't mean to tell me you're afraid of motorcycles, Tony."

"Uh, actually I love them," He replied, nervously dropping his gaze before continuing. "When I'm the one driving, that is."

"Don't you trust me?" The blond asked, stepping closer to Tony and resting his hands on the man's hips. "I won't crash."

Tony looked like he was fighting hard with himself, and Steve waited patiently. He felt a little hurt that the brunet hadn't immediately reassured him of his trust, though.

"Okay." The hero said at last, bringing his hands up to rest on Steve's shoulders. "Fine, fine. I trust you. Let's go before I change my mind."

Grinning broadly, the blond man pressed a kiss to his lover's forehead and then stepped away from him, somewhat rushing to climb onto his bike. As he felt the purring engine vibrate below him, a wave of excitement took over him.

God, I missed this.

Tony was slower to climb onto the motorcycle, but eventually he did. He wrapped his arms so tightly around Steve that it made the larger man chuckle.

"Shut the hell up, Spangly." The billionaire growled, but tangled his fingers in the fabric of Steve's t-shirt.

"Language." The blond teased, but then turned around and pecked Tony's blushing cheek. "Hold on tight."

"Let's just go before it gets dark."

Revving the engine, Steve picked his foot off the ground and let his bike move forward, the act of keeping it balanced as it moved coming naturally to him. They passed through the tunnel leading out of the garage, and then they were on the blacktop. After the blacktop came the road, then the highway, and Steve merged on to it easily.

Tony was clutching his boyfriend like a lifeline, gritting his teeth but forcing himself to keep his eyes open. Wind whipped through his brown locks as they picked up speed. Fifty miles an hour, sixty, then seventy....

"You okay?" Steve called behind him, voice loud over the roaring wind.

"Fine!" He responded, burying his face in the Captain's back. "When are we turning ar--"

Tony didn't get to finish his sentence. It was at that moment that a green light flashed and struck on the ground to the left of them, causing Steve to swerve the bike in shock.

"What the hell was that?" He yelled after he'd regained control of his motorcycle. "Where did it--"

Another flash, and suddenly the back tire was flattened. The motorcycle was dragging along the ground now, making a horrible screeching noise, and Steve knew he needed to act fast. Shouting at Tony to hold on, he swerved the bike off of the highway and into a patch of grass. One hand moved to grab his boyfriend, and then Steve leapt from the bike.

They crashed to the ground several feet away, Tony's fall broken by the bigger man. The blond grunted as his back smashed against the ground, but as far as he could tell he wasn't seriously hurt.

Just stunned.

"Shit." Tony swore, crawling out of Steve's limp arms and leaning down to his boyfriend. "Steve, darling. Are you okay?"

Groaning, the blond pushed himself slowly off the ground. He cringed at the movement but recovered quickly and nodded, looking around him. "Where'd that light come from?"

Tony looked around too, but he didn't see a thing. The motorcycle lay twenty feet away from them, looking fine except for the shot tire. He would have to fix it when they got back to the Tower. "I don't know. It wasn't lightning, was it?"

"You ever seen green lighting?" Steve asked pointedly.

"You're right." Tony said, and then pulled himself to his feet. He held out a hand to help Steve up. "Come on, I'll call my suit and we can go home."

Taking Tony's hand, Steve hauled himself painfully to his feet. He'd definitely be feeling that tomorrow. He didn't say anything, though; he didn't need to hear the old man jokes.

Just as he'd regained his balance, Steve caught sight of something over Tony's shoulder. It was some sort of weapon, and it was barreling towards him at an impeccable speed.

"Watch out!" He shouted, and shoved Tony out of the way. The hero stumbled and fell to the ground as the Captain too dodged the projectile. As both men looked to see the source of the flying object, they panicked.

A group of cloaked men were running for them, clutching spears in their hands, all poised to ambush the heroes.

It was at that moment that Steve realized something with a sickening sinking feeling in his gut.

They had no means of defense on them.


	15. Chapter 15

The air around them exploded with a sudden burst of animation as their attackers closed in. They were yards away and then they were feet away, and just as Steve began to see the green embellishments on their cloaks, he leapt into action.

"Run!" He yelled, ever the wise Captain. Grabbing Tony by the arm, he and the brunet began to take off in the opposite direction of the ambushers.

Meanwhile, Tony was barking commands into his watch in between breaths.

"Jarvis, deploy the Heartbreaker to my current location immediately!"

"Right away, sir." The AI's voice echoed off of the device, unfittingly calm despite the circumstances.

"Keep running!" Tony gasped, although it was obvious he wanted to do the opposite. "Give it a few minutes."

Steve didn't reply right away, too busy trying to keep his breathing even so he could run longer. He could hear the sounds of footsteps pounding on the ground behind them as they tore through the undeveloped land, and he briefly wished one of the cloaked figured would trip and fall on the rocky terrain.

"Should we call in the others?" He shouted after a long moment, thinking that it was their best bet. Tony's suit hadn't shown up yet, and their enemies were getting closer.

"Knowing S.H.I.E.L.D, they're already on their way." Came Tony's huffed response. Steve worried that the man wouldn't be able to run much longer.

However, he knew the hero was right. The organization was so advanced in their threat-detections technology that he was surprised this sudden attack had even occurred after all.

A bright red device shot past his face and circled around, nearly knocking the blond out of its way. He halted to a stop and turned around just in time to see something else appear from out of nowhere, something he wasn't expecting to see.

His shield.

"Jarvis must have been thinking of you, Cap." Tony said as the soldier bent to pick up his shield. He was now fully encased in his suit and lifting off the ground. "The others will be here soon. Let's do this."

Steve nodded, and was about to dive into the battle when he stopped and looked sternly at Tony. "Be careful."

A laugh sounded from inside the suit, and the soldier could just make out the words before Tony had flown away. "Good one. No promises."

Sighing, Captain America turned and launched himself into the fight. The cloaked beings ran at him, and though there were three more of them than there were of him he didn't hesitate. Yanking his shield-holding hand back, he sent it powerfully forward. It took out all of the enemies except one before it came back to him like a boomerang. He easily threw his weight forward and maimed the remaining one, knocking it out cold.

By this time Clint and Natasha had joined them. Arrows were soaring through the air and Steve caught flashes of gunfire as the red haired assassin wasted no time in getting to know the opponent. He felt better that they were here.

Losing himself in the fight, he no longer had to think about his actions. Punches and kicks were thrown at his enemies without his mind being the guide. This is what Cap was trained to do. Though he felt the usual stress that came with every battle, Steve was in his element.

The fighting continued for nearly sixty more minutes before the cloaked figures began to recede. Sensing their inevitable loss, those that still had their lives disappeared into the trees. The Avengers had won once more.

"Any idea what those things were?" Clint asked, tucking his bow away as he padded up to Steve's side. The blond was panting as he let his shield drop to the ground.

"No idea." He gasped. "They came out of no where and attacked us."

"That reminds me," Natasha said, having made her way to their side. "What were you and Tony up to anyway? Why were you together?"

"Uh..." Steve stuttered, looking to the Iron Man. His mask was still on, so he couldn't see the look on his boyfriend's face.

"I fixed his motorcycle and he paid me back by trying to kill me on it." Tony responded, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Oh, please." The Captain sighed, shaking his head. "It wasn't that bad."

He glanced to his right, where he saw his bike laying in ruins a good three yards away. It must have gotten destroyed during the fight. His heart sunk.

He'd had it back for no more than two hours and it was destroyed once more.

Tony must have sensed Steve's rapid shift in mood, because he cleared his throat and spoke to the other three heroes. "Come on. Let's get out of here."


	16. Chapter 16

When the heroes returned to the Tower, they deposited their weapons into the vault and went off to change and clean up. After they were sure Nat and Clint had gone away, Tony and Steve retreated to the billionaire's personal floor.

The soldier sat on the bed a quarter of an hour later, hair still damp from his shower. He couldn't shake the despair he felt from losing his motorcycle. As silly as it might have been, his vehicle had held a special place in his heart.

"Cheer up, Capsicle. We won." Tony mumbled as he appeared from the bathroom, dressed in only boxers and a dark tank top. He sat down beside his partner, making the bed shift below his weight.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, but didn't look up to Tony. "We did."

After a moment, the hero sighed. He put a hand on Steve's knee and nudged at the man to look at him.

"I'm sorry about your bike." Tony said sincerely, hating how crushed his partner looked. "I'll find you a new one. Another 1940s model. Hell, I'll even build you one from scratch if it makes you feel better."

Steve smiled a little, feeling grateful that Tony cared about him enough to go to that much trouble. Instead of responding with his words, the blond leaned in and pressed his lips to the hero's temple. This made the slightly smaller man smirk, and he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist.

"There you go." He chuckled, returning the kiss.

"What were those things?" Steve mumbled, though he subconsciously nuzzled into Tony. It had been bothering him ever since they were jumped, as it should. He couldn't remember anyone following them, couldn't remember seeing anything out of the ordinary...

"I don't know." The genius said, equally as puzzled. But if he were being honest, he wasn't completely surprised that someone had it out for them. After all, they were the Avengers. These kinds of things just happened to them. It was their job to get rid of every threat that came their way. Especially if it put innocent civilians in danger.

Steve was quiet for another moment, nibbling on his bottom lip as he thought. They hadn't even eradicated the cloaked ones - the enemies had simply run away. What was left of them, anyway.  
He didn't want to think they had won so easily.

"You're going to stress yourself out." The brunet grumbled, gently shoving his shoulder into Steve's. "Save the detective work for the morning. It's late."

With a quick glance to the clock on the wall adjacent to them, the Captain saw that it was, indeed, very late at night. The little hand was pointed at the four, its superior covering the two.

As if on cue, he yawned. Tony shook his head with a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Exactly. Want to just sleep here?"

Though Steve was old-fashioned and still didn't want to move their relationship along so quickly, he was also very tired. Besides, they'd shared the same bed once before. Another yawn graced his lips, so powerful this time that it made tears prick his eyes.

"Okay." He agreed simply, the fatigue in his body becoming harder to ignore.

Tony gently nudged his partner until he was laying down, then took up the spot directly next to him. Awkwardness filled the silent air as they both wondered if they should close the gap between them.

The clock ticked.

"Fuck it." Steve sighed, reaching over and tugging Tony into his strong arms. The brunet grinned cheekily as he was pressed against his boyfriend's chest, and took a moment to settle in.

"Language, Cap." He scolded, but Steve was already fast asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

The weeks to follow were harmless. Each day the Avengers woke and went about their daily routines as normal. Sometimes they would all go out to a club for the night, much to Steve's dismay.

He wasn't a club kind of guy, but his boyfriend certainly was.

Speaking of boyfriend - neither of the men had yet come out to the team. Tony wasn't as hesitant as Steve, who was still haunted by the memory of the homosexual boy being beaten in the market all those years ago. When he'd mentioned it to the billionaire, the latter had only laughed and said that there were no markets anymore. Not around here, anyway.

Frustrated, Steve shot him a deadly look. Tony quickly redeemed himself, assuring his partner that times had definitely changed. No one got beaten for being gay anymore.

"In fact," He'd said. "It's now a law that homosexuals can get married. We'll be fine, Cap."

But Steve was still hesitant, and while Tony was anxious to show him off to the world, he agreed to stay on the down-low with their relationship.

November went almost as quickly as it had come, and the streets of New York were filled with Christmas wreaths and a few daring Christmas carolers. It was during this time that Tony found out just how into Christmas Steve was.

The first indication of the man's holiday spirit came when he awoke one morning to find Steve making them breakfast, humming along merrily to Winter Wonderland as he worked. His sleep-heavy mind registered the tune coming instrumentally from a radio on the counter.

"Really?" Tony had muttered, coming to his partner's side and stealing a kiss and a strip of bacon. "You're a fan of Richard B. Smith but not Black Sabbath?"

"I grew up with this song!" Steve argued, a smile on his face. "My mother and I used to decorate the tree to these carols all the time."

Then Tony responded with another wise crack about Steve's age and the blond ignored him for hours. He finally ended the silent treatment when he could no longer resist asking Tony what he wanted for Christmas.

"Jack Daniels." He'd answered immediately, although joking of course. Another scowl had found its way onto Steve's face, and the billionaire only chuckled and shook his head. "Kidding. Mostly. I'm not the Christmassy kind of guy, Steve. Don't get me anything."

Steve, however, was not going to accept this for an answer. And he certainly was not going to neglect his boyfriend on the happiest day of the year. Because he couldn't exactly go to the rest of the team for gift advice, the Captain borrowed one of Tony's flashy cars and snuck off to the local mall.  
The building was lined with people, so much so that Steve could barely get through. He tugged his hat lower over his forehead so that his sunglasses were slightly more obscured from view.

The last thing he needed was to be seen and mobbed a week before Christmas.

Mentally scolding himself for waiting so long, he entered into a nearby mom-and-pop jewelry store. This wasn't exactly the best place to shop for a man like Tony, but Steve had an idea.

"Welcome!" The elderly woman greeted from behind the desk. Her smile was warm and bright. "How may I help you today?"

"I'm looking for a gift for my, uh... Partner." Steve said kindly, although not wanting to reveal too much to this stranger.

"Your girlfriend, I assume?"

"Something like that." He smiled tightly.

"Very well, then." The woman responded, beckoning him over to the counter. "Do you have any ideas?"

From his spot on the opposite side of the structure, Steve caught a glimpse of a pair of dog tags in the display case below. Briefly he was reminded of Bucky, but the pang of sadness was quickly replaced with an idea.

He flashed his teeth with a grin as he looked up to the old woman, who waited patiently for him to reach a decision.

"Actually," The Captain mumbled thoughtfully, his hand over the glass. "I do."


End file.
